


A Voice Too Loud

by mansikka



Series: Things That Need To Be Said [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Caring Magnus Bane, Insecure Alec Lightwood, M/M, Self-Doubt, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-01-21 07:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12452658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Alec is feeling insecure, and Magnus does all he can to reassure him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ***update***
> 
> Please go take a look at the [beautiful art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14012781) for this story by [MichelleMisfit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MichelleMisfit/pseuds/MichelleMisfit)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Hello :)
> 
> This was going to be a three chapter story, but then the third part turned out explicit where the first two parts were not. So, I've separated them into two stories; I think you can probably get away with reading them as standalones with different ratings if you'd prefer to just read an insecure!Alec fic without the smut.
> 
> Enjoy :)
> 
> x

He didn’t want to come here. He doesn’t want to spend his evening in a swarm of unknown people, with music loud enough to make the ground tremble, and so repetitive it leaves him unable to think. He doesn’t want to do anything, aside from make his way back to the loft, crawl into bed beside Magnus, curl up around him, and go to sleep. Forget the day, hope tomorrow will be a better one. But this, this is where Magnus wants to be this evening. And Alec, with the constant feeling of late of treading on eggshells, did nothing but nod in easy agreement when he’d called him earlier to ask.

Alec looks up once again at the sign announcing _Pandemonium_ , and tries to form his face into an easier smile. But it’s impossible; it’s like his very soul is aching, a deep, seeping feeling that may as well go to the very depths of his bones. The music from inside the club is not helping with that feeling, making every wave of it pulse. Alec has to fight hard not to turn on his heel, send Magnus a message, risk that he’ll be mad at him for not wanting the same thing as him tonight. But he can’t face the thought of any falling out between them now.

Steeling himself, Alec begins walking into the club, the weight of the day pressing down on him hard enough to make it appear his feet are sinking through the ground. Reports, statistics, acquisition slips for numerous weapons, a wealth of paperwork that has slowly dragged him down. Constant snide comments in passing for attempting to broker a simple peace with the Downworld. Even snider ones for the _company_ he keeps—the very reason he’s walking into this club that’s the last place he wants to be.

He loves Magnus, it’s as simple and as much a part of him as breathing, and he’s not going to apologize for it, feel guilty for it, feel anything but pride. Lets those comments go over his head, for the most part, and add additional weight to his shoulders. Because it’s not his place as Head of the Institute to defend his actions, or explain how he lives his private life. He’s there to _work_ , to _lead_ ; and if the only way he’s leading is by example, by _not_ stooping to their level of commenting, then that is the way that he will lead.

Alec knows Magnus gets equal whispered comments for their relationship, knows of several warlocks who refuse to even acknowledge Alec is in the same room—just as the couple he recognizes in passing are doing to him now. Turning their backs firmly to him whilst stood at the bar, as he makes his way towards Magnus through the crowd. Their relationship was never going to be an easy one for the world around them. But it’s worth it, and every moment they’re together alone, or with the people that matter, Alec feels like he’s found himself a home. Which is probably yet another thing people disdain them for—living together in blatant disrespect for how other people in the Shadow World might perceive them needing to behave.

Alec groans as another track starts up, triggering a dance floor full of cheering, and wishes more than anything he was in that home now.

Magnus doesn’t know how he’s feeling at the moment. Alec’s been putting up his own walls, hiding behind his own false smiles, pretending everything is fine between them. It _is_ , in all the important ways, except in the part where Alec thinks he’s never going to be able to _please_ Magnus. Never going to be quite as interesting, or entertaining as he’d like, never going to be that easy-going person he wishes he could be; even if he is the most relaxed, open version of himself around Magnus that he’s ever been. Lately, Alec doesn’t feel like he’s _enough_ for Magnus, that he’s got anything to offer him. The novelty of a _virgin Shadowhunter_ has got to wear off sometime, he thinks, especially when Magnus sees just how little else there is about him beneath that smile he keeps turning on him every time he asks what’s on his mind.

 _Nothing, Magnus_ , is a phrase he’s repeated so many times, it’s almost always already on the tip of his tongue when Magnus gets _that_ look about him like he’s about to ask. Magnus must think his head is empty, Alec huffs to himself as a passing Seelie drags a hand down his chest, does his best to pull back without looking uncomfortable, because he’s not here to cause problems. He’s just here to see Magnus, to be with Magnus; Magnus is the only person he’s interested in seeing, and Magnus—

Alec’s heart gives a single, painful jolt, his stomach clenching so hard he has to fight against toppling forward. He has to bunch his hands in tights fists down by his sides so he’s got something else to focus on, to stop him either charging forward demanding to know what the hell is happening, or spinning on his heel and walking straight back out. Even when Magnus rolls his eyes, politely but firmly shoving the person draping themselves over him insistently to the side, Alec thinks his heart is breaking just a little. He trusts Magnus, knows without even having to ask that he is faithful, yet is also only human; the thought of the people that fawn all over Magnus with no thought for _him_ never gets any easier to stomach, much less so to have to witness for himself. It’s one of the reasons he doesn’t like coming here, because he knows it happens when he isn’t around. But if he’s not having to see it for himself, then it just taunts him for being a possibility. Not an actuality he has to suffer with his own eyes.  

But Magnus has seen him, his face already morphing to that softness he only shows for him. And though it’s too loud to hear it, Alec knows his lips are forming the word _Alexander_ , watches as he beckons him forward. Alec knows he’s got about five seconds to arrange his face into a suitable smile. It helps that something settles in him just for seeing Magnus, despite this weight of secrets he’s been keeping. So his smile for him is genuine, as is his need for Magnus; it’s just that burden of not being _enough_ for him that’s making him drag his heels.

“I’m so relieved you are here,” Magnus says the second Alec’s close enough to hear him, reaching out to tangle their fingers together. He kisses him in what really feels like relief the moment Alec is sat down by his side.

Alec sinks into it, feeling grounded the second Magnus’ hand is on his waist, thumb already working beneath the hem of his shirt. All that hesitation, worry, and introspection on the way there dissolve for Alec, simply for being there with Magnus. Magnus sighs when he pulls back from kissing him, only to drop their foreheads together, smiling at him as though Alec is the only reason he has to smile.  

“What is it?” He asks then, pulling back as though there’s something on Alec’s face that’s caught his attention. Gently wrapping his hand around the nape of his neck, and looking at him in concern.

“Nothing,” Alec tells him, shaking his head, though first raising his own fingers up to slot between Magnus’. Catching the way his eyes narrow a fraction that says he doesn’t believe him, so smiling a little harder in response, and dropping his gaze back to Magnus’ lips, hoping he’ll take the hint.  

Alec never kisses Magnus first in here, feeling like he doesn’t have the right to. Magnus has never said such a thing, of course, and Alec knows he'd probably be utterly surprised—perhaps even horrified, that he even feels that way. But Alec feels eyes on him the entire time he’s in Pandemonium, and so few of them are friendly, that he consciously watches every move. Even when he’s losing himself in Magnus, who is crowding a little closer, kissing him a little more thoroughly, and humming like he couldn’t be happier.

When he pulls back this time, Magnus studies him for another few seconds, then waves down a passing waiter and orders Alec a drink. Doesn’t ask what he wants, of course; the first time he’d tried that here, Alec had frozen, having no idea what half the things were on the drinks menu, and no clue about what any of the cocktails contain.  

“It’s the juice you like, with a hint of something a little more... exotic, to help you unwind,” Magnus tells him, turning into Alec’s side and throwing his arm around his shoulders in easy affection. His other hand is up to push hair back from his forehead as he crosses his legs, and Magnus nudges his knee against Alec’s thigh.

“Wh-who says I need to unwind?” Alec asks, belatedly registering Magnus’ words.

“I do,” Magnus smiles with a kiss to his cheek. “And when we leave here, we’re going to talk about whatever is bothering you,”

“Nothing is _bothering_ me,” Alec denies, his heart dancing up a little.

“Alexander,” Magnus sighs, leaning in to kiss him once again, “aside from whatever it is about today that has etched these lines into your face, you have been tense for weeks. Always hesitating before you do, or say anything to me. Ever since—”

Magnus is cut off by a warlock coming to stand in front of him, his body angled in a way that suggests Alec isn’t even in the room. And though Magnus sits with an arm deliberately around his shoulders, and the other loosely around his waist, the warlock doesn’t even look. Alec has never, never felt small in his life before, the way he does now—has done, for _weeks_ , ever since—  

 _Fights_ , Alec thinks, gritting his teeth, tuning out the conversation he’s not party to. It has been weeks, lots of them, and everything is better between them, all out in the open. There have been a lot of long conversations testing out the boundaries of what they can share with each other in a professional sense that doesn’t impact the personal.

There’s been fallouts outside of them following everything with Valentine, and the Soul Sword, and the raising of the Angel; Alec knows the reason Magnus doesn’t do more to stop the way the warlocks are treating _him_ is because currently, he’s on tentative ground himself. His deal with the Seelie Queen he might have managed to convince his way out of, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t a lot of warlocks questioning whose side Magnus is really on now. And whether his decisions are right for _them_.  

It’s not just the warlocks, Alec adds to himself, trying not to notice the way a Seelie walks behind the couch they’re sitting on with their fingers tracing a path along Magnus’ arm behind his head. Alec has witnessed Magnus quietly repairing all kinds of relationships he has with the other Downworlders. And though for the most part that too has become easier, there are still a few that view Magnus—and Alec by proxy—with more than a little mistrust. So Alec understands; Magnus hasn’t been distant with him in the slightest, in fact they’ve spent more time together in these past weeks than Alec could ever have hoped for considering how busy they both have been. But Magnus is juggling multiple roles, and Alec isn’t quite sure where he fits in.  

He _does_ , Alec amends to himself angrily; by Magnus’ side is not the thing in question. The thing in _question_ , is whether or not he will ever be quite good enough for him to _keep_ standing by his side.

“Here; try this,” Magnus says, bringing Alec’s attention back, focusing on the glass being held in front of him. He takes a sip; there’s the juice he likes, just as Magnus promised, and he thinks he tastes a spirit he recognizes yet can’t remember by name. It’s good, strong but not eye watering, sweet, but not enough to leave an aftertaste in his mouth.  

He smiles and nods, receives a kiss in reward, but then Magnus is sighing. His eyes lingering on the back of the now-departed warlock and briefly closing, before he can bring himself to smile again.

“Everything okay?” Alec asks, taking another sip as he watches him.

“Mostly,” Magnus agrees. “There are… one or two who are yet to forgive me for… _before_ ,”

Alec nods, and after hesitating, because he always does here, slides his hand up Magnus’ thigh and squeezes above his knee in reassurance, resting his hand there.

“But we were talking about—”

Magnus is cut off from speaking to Alec once more, this time having to turn a little away from him for the vampire towering over him and refusing to sit. Magnus is, of course, unconcerned, smiling up at them as though he has not a care in the world. But the tension Alec can feel pressed up against his leg says Magnus is close to losing his patience. Which leaves Alec, of course, to overthink about what the issue with this vampire might be.

Alec hears Raphael mentioned, thinks he may even hear Simon, and gets the impression there’s a dispute over ownership of a vampire den that doesn’t fall within the protection of those at Hotel Dumort. Then realizes this vampire was one sired by Camille, and even more discomfort blooms in his chest.

Alec tries not to gulp at his drink, but since Magnus is occupied, and there is no one else around that he’d want to talk to—even if they did want to talk to him—there’s little else for him to do but drink—and think. That he doesn’t belong here, that he is not of interest to Magnus. That this world’s too colorful, and vibrant, for him to keep insinuating the greyness that is _him_ , in.

“I think I’m gonna go,”

Alec finds himself tapping his thumb against Magnus’ thigh interrupting him, and begins to move to stand.

“What?” Magnus asks, spinning in total surprise. The vampire scowls down at the two of them so hard Alec is pleased to see their height difference once he’s upright, glowering down at them until their face finally begins to morph a little with doubt.  

“I’m gonna go,” Alec repeats, “you’ve got… stuff you need to deal with here,”

“Alec—” but Alec flinches from his grip, pleading with himself to stay, even when his feet are carrying him towards the exit, and just seconds later finding himself outside.  

Alec manages only a few paces before he’s cursing himself, heart protesting for being away from Magnus, and what Magnus might have to say about him walking out on him. He’s been trying so very hard; not to give Magnus everything he asks for and never have an opinion on anything that might conflict, not like that—he’s not acting like he’s _lesser_ with Magnus, in fact he’s not acting like _anything_. But he’s just been trying so hard, focusing on not doing things that might displease him, or bore him, instead of just _talking_ to him like Magnus keeps asking him to do, pretending everything is fine.

It isn’t fine, not by a long shot, this constant, irritating, aggravating feeling beneath the surface of his skin that’s whispering things at him he knows are to do with those insecurities he has, but always tries to deny. Magnus knows, though, always sees right through the way he tries to disguise them and disappear into himself. Magnus—  

“Alexander,”

He’s a little breathless, which means Magnus has run after him, chased him however far Alec’s long strides have taken him from the club. His hand is gripped around his arm, firm but gentle, and Alec is scared to turn back to face the look that’s waiting for him.

“Alexander. Please, look at me,”

Alec’s head falls forward, his whole body tensing, bracing for whatever is going to happen, hoping against all hope that they’re not going to fight. He can’t deal with it if they have another _fight_. Holding his breath as he slowly turns round, Alec needs a few seconds before he can look Magnus in the eye. And when he does, it’s to find him smiling at him with a sadness that says he wants to understand, but first needs to know the reason _why_.

“I love you,” Alec blurts out, because that’s the first, most important truth he can tell him.

“I know you do,” Magnus agrees, not moving an inch, not even doing anything to inject further warmth to his smile, “as you know I love you,”

“I do,” Alec agrees, aching to reach out for him. There’s only a foot between them, so why does it feel like a chasm is forming, some sharp cliff face of unbreachable differences between them, that Alec has yet to find a way to cross.  

“So—”

“It’s just been a long day,” Alec smiles, feeling that mask slot into place, even his voice that self-reproachful tone he’s perfected for when he doesn’t want to talk. “I don’t wanna take it out on you, Magnus. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come,”

“Alex—”

“I’ll see you at home,” he says, beginning to turn from him, “though I’m pretty tired. Think I’ll just go to bed." Before Magnus can say another word, Alec has spun on his heel, already pacing away from him.

* * *

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

It takes Magnus less than three minutes to catch up with him, and the breathlessness that’s in his voice again as he calls for him has Alec’s heart sink. What would the Downworlders think of Magnus, the High Warlock of Brooklyn, chasing through the streets after a petulant Shadowhunter on this cold fall evening? When he should be in his rightful place on that slightly raised platform in Pandemonium, overseeing all his _people_ , and perhaps dancing and drinking until late in the night. Or morning, Alec amends to himself, having the time for all this overthinking, since Magnus is just staring back at him not saying a word. As though he’s waiting for _him_ to talk.  

“You should go back,” Alec tells him softly, allowing himself to raise a gentle hand to cup his face. Magnus’ eyes narrow at the gesture, raising his fingers to wrap around his wrist so he can drag it down, then tangling their fingers in the gap between them.

“What is it?” he asks just as softly, though it's underwritten with a plea. And what is Alec supposed to say? That he fears he’s never going to be _enough_ for him? That he’s scared that he might say the wrong thing if he talks? That it’s not _Magnus_ that’s making him feel all these things he's feeling lately, of not ever being enough to please him, but the cruel voice of insecurity that is his inner self?

Alec’s had years of introspection and keeping these things to himself. He knows he’ll always be in Jace and Izzy’s shadow, because the confidence they exude is effortless, natural, comes from a place where they truly _know_ themselves. Whereas his is a mask, a shield that is meant to reflect away all unwanted attention. He’s stern because it’s easier than letting people in to then not like him. Strict because if he focuses purely on the task, there’s nothing else left he can get wrong. Silent when he should speak up, because the Angel knows his parents will forever show disappointment in him for honesty that isn’t in alignment to their own way of thinking. Sharp when he should be gentle, because how else is he supposed to protect himself from being hurt?

Except with Magnus.

With Magnus, Alec is his true self. Shows every fault and flaw, everything he’s ever perceived in himself as a weakness, and every other imperfection besides. Magnus _knows_ Alec, more than anyone else has taken the trouble to, more than Alec’s wanted to share with _anyone_. It’s why it feels like he’s not fitting in his own skin for not being _honest_ with Magnus about how he’s feeling about _them_. Why they’re standing there staring at each other, with Alec feeling so utterly, thoroughly lost. Magnus keeps staring at him, eyes flitting over every one of his features until Alec sees his expression soften, and Magnus nods to himself as though he’s had a theory that has just been proven right.

Alec’s stomach drops for that thought, bracing for Magnus to turn away from him, to confirm that Alec really _isn’t_ enough to please him, to satisfy all the needs he has in someone that’s supposed to be his partner. He pleads with himself not to show how hard his heart is breaking now that Magnus is admitting that they’re over, trying to come up with a million ideas at once for how he’s going to occupy himself from now on, in a world without Magnus.  

He isn’t expecting Magnus to crowd up against him, press his chest so firmly against his own that Alec is stumbling backward from the strength of it.  

“Let me in, Alexander,” he says, soft and insistent, never taking his eyes off Alec. “I’m not going anywhere. There is nothing that could possibly be playing on repeat in your head, that is ever going to push me away,”

Alec opens his mouth to protest, but the only thing that comes out is a broken noise that he’s adamant is not anything to accompany the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes. So frustrated at himself for all that he’s feeling that he doesn’t know how to put into words, that Alec would not be surprised to find himself already crying. But he doesn’t, because who would _he_ be, if he allowed himself to give into that?

Though when they’d been fighting, Alec thinks to himself, blinking back the dampness in his eyes, there had been so much crying. So much working even later than he does usually when it’s called for, into the early hours of the morning. Relying on coffee to get him through his day. Barely sleeping, and definitely not functioning for the thought that those _fights_ might be a permanent separation between them.  

“Alexander,” Magnus urges, and it breaks him. He doesn’t mean to do it, doesn’t want to be standing there crying, but he’s slumping forward, head burrowed into Magnus’ neck and gripping around his waist so desperately tight. Alec hears his named called repeatedly, as Magnus sweeps soothing hands up over his arms and back. And when Alec can’t bring himself to answer, Magnus just holds him, doesn’t say a single word, just kisses where he can get to until Alec can find his way back.

When Alec gets control of himself again, the first emotion he knows to go to is embarrassment, pulling away from Magnus and roughly wiping away his tears, trying to turn away.  

Magnus won’t let him. Grabs his hands so both of them are gripped tight in his free one, as Magnus reaches up to wipe those tears away himself. He follows it up with a kiss, both hands now holding on to Alec’s as he raises himself up enough to first kiss his mouth, then his cheek, then over his stinging eyes before nuzzling against him and pulling back only a fraction to look at him.

“Normally, I’d say, let’s go home. Talk about this there, preferably over cocktails and excellent steak,” Magnus says, with a small smile as he stares back at him, still looking as though he’s waiting for Alec to talk.

“But?” Alec manages to say, even that one word coming out cracked. It seems to make Magnus sag a little, but only for a second, before he’s again pressing himself up against him, nuzzling at his jaw.

“But,” Magnus repeats, “if we go there, I fear that you are going to do what you have been doing every other evening I have asked that you _talk_. That you’ll change the subject, distract me, in all the ways only you would get away with,”

Alec smiles at that, he can’t help it, feels a blush rise on his cheeks even as he ducks his head down, hearing Magnus’ soft laugh.

“I want us to _talk_ , Alec,” Magnus urges, squeezing over his hands and silently asking him to look up again. “I want us to be as open and honest as we are about everything, but without you feeling you need to hold things back from me,”

Alec wants to retort. Point out that Magnus is guilty of doing so much of that as well—that he has _centuries_ of things he’s yet to share with Alec. But Magnus isn’t asking for Alec’s life story, that he already knows so much of anyway; he’s asking him to be _open_ with him. Let him know what he’s worrying about.

“I love you, Alexander,” Magnus whispers, cupping his face and kissing him softly. “There isn’t anything you can tell me that’s going to push me away,”

“Even if it’s stupid?” Alec asks, feeling every bit of that stupid.

"Have you never thought anything that  _I_  have shared with you is  _stupid_?" Magnus counters, smiling at him adoringly.

“No,” Alec says, because he hasn’t; not a single thing.

“Even when I told you that I held a grudge with a family tailor, for six generations, because of a pin that was left in the cuff of a favorite shirt that stabbed me in the hand?”

Alec fights not to smile at the memory of Magnus telling him the story, though Magnus knows he’s got him, judging from the glint in his eyes.

“Or, when I didn’t talk to Ragnor for three years, because he was ten minutes late to a party I organized, and wanted him there early to keep me company so I could avoid an acquaintance of ours that I didn’t like?”

Alec remembers Magnus recounting both sides of the conversation, impersonating Ragnor, and overexaggerating his own responses, and smiles again.  

“Or,” Magnus continues, pressing even closer to him, “when I bewitched a client’s cell phone, so that the only ringtones he could choose were the finest songs by Abba, who he hated with… overwhelming conviction, because he wouldn’t apologize for the unreasonable demands he was making, but I was tied into a contract with him for an indefinite period, and could only annoy my way out of it?”

Alec pictures Magnus spinning around the loft with a cocktail in his hand as he told the story, raucously singing the words to, Alec thinks, a song called _Dancing Queen._ How Magnus had laughed so hard at himself when he’d spun into a wall and bumped his head, that he’d given himself hiccups. Alec let the memory replay in his head and smiles a little harder again. 

“My point is,” Magnus says, kissing him and squeezing his fingers through Alec’s, “it doesn’t matter what you tell me. I’m not going anywhere,”

“I love you,” Alec tells him softly, dropping Magnus’ hands so he can wrap him up in a hug.

“Like no one else ever has,” Magnus agrees, nuzzling against him. “So please. Tell me what all this… overthinking you have been doing these past few weeks is really about,”

Alec thinks, doesn’t know where to start, but doesn’t want Magnus to think he doesn’t want to talk. So he sighs, slumps a little harder against him then pulls back, snatching up his hand.

“How about we walk a little,” Magnus suggests, so aware of how Alec is struggling, and Alec agrees with a nod, turning as Magnus guides him.

“I know we… I know we talked things over. Talked about… everything that led up to us... _fighting_ ,” Alec begins, his heart already protesting even though he has Magnus’ reassurance that his words won’t force him away.

“We did,”

“And I know… we agreed. To _keep_ talking, about the stuff that… all the _professional_ stuff we deal with, that might impact _us_. That we… we need to take each thing as it comes. Not try to… not try and give one answer to everything that’s gonna happen, or isn’t, ‘cos we can’t control all that’s coming. Outside of us, anyway,”

“We did,” Magnus repeats, squeezing his hand, and it’s as though it’s a reward to Alec for all he’s managed to say so far, and encouragement for all he’s yet to get out.

“And I’m good with that,” Alec tells him, because he is. It makes sense not to make assumptions about what either of them will do, or won’t do, or make promises they mean from the heart, but might have as yet unknown reasons why they are promises they cannot keep.

“Me too,”

“But we didn’t really talk. About… _why_ we’re together. Why we… I mean,” Alec amends, quickly squeezing Magnus’ fingers, pleading that he won’t misinterpret his meaning. “I know you love me. And you know I love you, so, so much,”

“Would you like me to list all of the things I love about you?” Magnus teases. Alec thinks he’s saying it to show he’s still listening, hasn’t taken offense, isn’t about to pull away.

“It’s not that,” Alec says, though asks himself if that underlies everything. He doesn’t want a million reasons, but he does need something from Magnus to know why he’s staying. So he can understand that he _will_ stay.

“Then?” Magnus prompts, bringing Alec’s awareness to the fact he hasn’t added anything for a few minutes.

“I just… I’m just… I guess I’m just trying to figure out what you want with me,”

“What I want with you?” Magnus repeats, and Alec feels him staring at the side of his face, but can’t bring himself to look.

“Yeah. I mean… it’s not that I need a… a list of _reasons_. But I just… I don’t know, honestly, why you would,” and Alec’s heart beats in protest for his words, his stomach plummeting for the tension he feels in Magnus’ arm next to his, that says he doesn’t understand. “I don’t understand,” Alec says, trying to force the words out louder than they’re coming, “why you _would_ love me. Why you’d… why you’d want to stick around,”

“Have I given you the impression I’m _going_ somewhere?” Magnus asks, and there’s a tone to his voice Alec can’t quite interpret. Thinks perhaps he’s said too much, or not enough, or let the wrong words come out.

“No. But I—”

“Alexander—”

“I’ve got nothing to _give_ you, Magnus,” Alec blurts out then, six words that have been taunting him, and don’t sound like much, but do encompass so much of what he’s been feeling. “I’m just… _me_ , Magnus. _This_ ,”

Magnus follows the gesture of Alec’s hand at himself, and keeps watching.

“I don’t… I’m not interesting, or funny. I’m not… I love everything we do together, every new place you take me, and every thing that we try,” Alec pauses, trying to get some control over his words. “But I just… I don’t suggest anything. I just follow. And I just keep thinking that… I don’t _know_ why you’d want to be with me, when I don’t  _add_  anything to this relationship. Just keep… following. _Taking_ from you all the time,”

“That is not how I see things,” Magnus begins to say, but Alec’s shaking his head, already sure he has to get out all he’s thinking before he loses courage.

“And there’s nothing _new_ about me. There’s nothing… I’m still just _me_ , after everything. And I just can’t help thinking, that sooner or later, you’re just gonna get _bored_  of me,”

“Alec—”

“And that I’ve… got nothing to offer you, to make you… change your mind,”

When Magnus doesn’t say anything for five long minutes, that Alec counts every second of, fearing the worst, he turns to study his face to try to gauge how bad it’s going to be, whatever he says to him. Magnus’ jaw is taut, and his Adam’s Apple bobbing, and there’s a very definite scowl to his brow.

“When I… struggled. With everything that happened with… _Valentine_ ,” Magnus says eventually, as though he’s choosing each of his words with care, “you were wonderful with me—”  

Alec thinks of that chair, the terror on _Valentine’s_ face when it was _Magnus_ , and hates himself as much in that moment as he had at the time. _Wonderful_ isn’t the word he’s thinking of, but he says nothing, doesn’t want to interrupt.  

“—you cleaned, because you always do when you’re not sure what else to do to help. You held me until I felt comfortable in my own skin again. But more important than anything else, you didn’t… you didn’t allow me to shut you out. You never pushed, but you… you didn’t allow it,”

“I didn’t know what to do,” Alec admits, feeling just as torn as he had done at the time. “I knew you needed space, didn’t want to crowd you when I… I can’t even imagine what it must have been like,”

Magnus smiles, but his eyes are not on Alec’s, and Alec aches at the thought of Magnus being lost in those memories all over again.

“But I didn’t… I didn’t want you to feel alone,” Alec urges, softly because he’s still struggling to get his words out. “I can’t… I can’t pretend I understand everything you’ve experienced, but I… I want to… I want to _be_ here for you, Magnus—even if it’s just to listen if you wanna talk. I want you _to_ be able to talk to me, about anything—everything you want to. Not that I… not that I think you _have_ to tell me everything. Not if you don’t want to,”

Magnus’ smile for him then is so wide, so _loving_ , that Alec can’t help but be caught up in it. He pulls Magnus to a stop, wraps an arm around his waist, and pulls him closer for a kiss, closing his eyes to the way Magnus hums his way into it.   

“And remember when I broke that favorite flask of mine, that I was brewing a potion in, because in a fit of temper, I smashed it against the wall on the opposite side of the room?” Magnus asks, pulling them back to keep walking, swinging their hands down together between them.

Alec remembers all too well; the smell, the stains that took forever to get out of every surface both with his by hand efforts, and Magnus’ magic. The look of contrition on his face when Alec cut his finger on a shard of that flask, and how Magnus had not slept that night so he could still brew the potion in time for his client to pick up the following morning, still makes Alec smile with affection even now.

“Not only did you help me clean up my _literal_ messes,” Magnus says with a huff under his breath that Alec _thinks_ is aimed at himself. “But you went out, into a questionable part of the city, went into a store owned by one of the most surly, uncooperative warlocks I have the displeasure of knowing, and stood there for hours to make sure the flask you were getting to replace the one _I_ had smashed to smithereens was perfect for my requirements,”

Alec remembers that too; the disdainful, bordering on hateful looks the warlock had given him the moment he’d walked through the door. The belittling commenting when Alec admitted he didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, and the eventual, grudging softening, when Alec stubbornly wouldn’t budge.

“You made Max write me a thank you letter for hosting his rune party,” Magnus adds, his lips twitching in what Alec thinks is fondness of the memory. “And you made Jace buy me that excellent bottle of whiskey, and clean his room meticulously, when he finally returned to the Institute,”

Alec laughs at that, remembering how Jace had at first thought he was kidding, and the dawning realization on his face when he'd realized that he wasn’t.  

“Raj’s _apology_ was… excruciating,” Magnus adds, and now Alec really is laughing. Magnus seems happy to hear it, nudging affectionately into his side.

“Yeah, well. He shouldn't've spoken to you like that,” Alec tells him, remembering how hard Raj had scowled at him when he’d told him he needed to apologize.

“You are always defending me,” Magnus points out.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Alec asks, shrugging, because it’s such an obvious thing for him to do, he doesn’t even have to think about it.

“You looked exquisite when you allowed me to apply that eyeliner when we went to that party,” Magnus adds, winking at him.

“Which time?” Alec laughs, because there’s been a few of them, and he’s not minded a single one for the look of joy on Magnus’ face as he does it.

“Exactly,” Magnus tells him, which doesn’t make a lot of sense, but the affectionate smile he’s turning on him makes it worth it, whatever he’s meaning. Alec returns it, but doesn’t know what to add.

"Okay,"

“All these things,” Magnus says then, with a small wave of his hand, “individually, I’m sure you would argue they do not sound like _much_. But they _are_. They are to  _me_ , Alexander, for all of the reasons I love you, because there are so very many, that I could start listing them now, and we would still be here talking about them in the morning; they all come down to one, simple thing. You love _me_ ,”

Alec smiles, but doesn’t quite feel comforted, and Magnus sighs, because he _knows_ he hasn’t reached him yet.

“I mean,” Magnus amends, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, “that I love you, because you love me, accept me exactly as I am, and by doing so, allow me to _be_ me. And at the same time, give me the real _you_. I never have to feel that you are hiding something from me, or worry that what you are telling me to my face, you do not mean elsewhere,”

“Of course,” Alec agrees, because what sense would there be in being any other way with Magnus?

“You reach me, even when I’m at my lowest. You don’t flinch away from my moods, or temper, and you’re not afraid to tell me when I need to snap out of it. And for all you talk of _following_ , you are the first to say I love you. The first to say you’re sorry, even if it is me at fault. To suggest that we go dancing, or sightseeing, or even just for dinner when you can see I need a _lift_. You tell me jokes—admittedly, terrible ones—”

And Alec has to laugh in agreement at that, squeezing Magnus’ fingers then draping his arm around his shoulders.

“—you send me some of the filthiest promises I think I have ever received in messages,” Magnus adds then with another wink. “Promises that you never fail to keep,”

Alec feels himself blushing but can’t look away, not from the look on Magnus’ face that is so very adoring, Alec’s having trouble accepting that it’s all for him.

“You are _you_ , Alexander,” Magnus smiles. “I love you, because you are _you_ , and you let me _see_ you be you. And you allow me to be _me_. I can’t tell you how… how _freeing_ it is, to be able to trust someone, without having to second-guess their thoughts. Or intentions,”

Alec squeezes his arm tighter around Magnus’ shoulders, feels Magnus squeeze around his waist, but doesn’t trust himself to talk.

“All this… holding back you’ve been doing,” Magnus says then, a little softer, as though he knows he has to approach the subject gently. “All this… agreeing to my suggestions without question, and… hesitating before you tell me things, and… all of these small things—doubts you think you are hiding from me. I know every one. I know _you_ ,”

Alec sighs and nods, pressing a kiss to his temple, but still can’t bring himself to speak.

“You have no reason to fear that I will… lose interest in you, Alexander,” Magnus says then, pressing his fingers into his side to pull him even closer. “For all you fear of being uninteresting, you are _fascinating_  to me. Everything about you, every new thing you reveal, new interest you discover. You have spent your life living an organized, regimental lifestyle; you cannot expect to, overnight, find all the things that bring you joy. You have to learn them slowly, savor them, discard them if they no longer suit. You only have to be _you_ , Alec, and you will have my full, undivided attention, at all times,”

Alec feels foolish. Small, insignificant next to this beautiful, bold man before him for ever having doubts. Yet also loved, so very loved by Magnus, that it’s like coming home, being wrapped up in the warmest hug, and grounded, all at once. He wishes he could express that feeling out loud to Magnus in a way that was good enough, but the words aren’t coming, so all he can do is hold on to him and try to keep back the tears that are forming in his eyes.  

“I love _you_ , Alexander,” Alec hears muffled into the side of his head, because he’s holding on to Magnus so tightly, that he’s barely got space to talk. “You, and all of you. Every part. Every single thing that you’ve convinced yourself is _wrong_ with you, which there isn’t; not a thing,”

Alec presses his nose into Magnus’ neck in a poor attempt to disguise that he’s crying, squeezing his eyes shut pointlessly, still trying to hold back his tears.  

“Sometimes,” Magnus continues, with another kiss for him, “I want to go back. Find every last person that convinced you the only purpose in your life was to _serve_ , instead of just to _be_ , and… find some way to punish them. Because you give so much of yourself, Alexander. You do; you are a strong leader, a dedicated son, and brother, and to the few people lucky enough to have you, you are a true, unwavering friend. And though those are… admirable qualities, you give so little to _yourself_. Your purpose in this world isn’t just to serve others, Alec; the only reason you are only now learning what it is that interests you outside of the Clave, is because you are having time—finally—for _you_ ,”

“Because of _you_ ,” Alec mumbles back, feeling like he can’t get close enough to Magnus, shuffling in ever tighter. “I only do that ‘cos of you,”

“I like to think of myself merely as a catalyst,” Magnus teases, still just as gentle with him. “Only that I helped you realize the… possibilities there are for you,”

“I’ve got so many reasons to be thankful to you for,”

“Alexander,” Magnus says, pulling back—with difficulty, because Alec is having trouble letting him go. “We are equal in this relationship. We support and love each other; it is not about being _thankful_ for anything,”

“But I _am_ thankful, Magnus,” Alec tells him, squeezing his arms urgently, because he needs to still be touching him, and is desperate for Magnus to hear him. “I am; before I met you, I didn’t know that there… I didn’t… I—”

“You didn’t know to think of _you_ first,” Magnus finishes for him, staring back at him insistently, as though he expects Alec to agree with him. He can’t agree with him, Alec thinks, not right now, because it feels selfish, to even think that he might do that.

Magnus’ smile becomes a little more wistful, as though he knows exactly what Alec is thinking, but doesn’t call him up on it. Just leans in to softly kiss him, then gently pulls himself out of Alec’s grip to hold on to his hands.  

“Let’s go home,”

* * *

 


End file.
